Waking up as a muggle
by Blackie Shell Paws and Furface
Summary: James Potter as in Harry's dad, not his son wakes up in a world without magic in which everyone thinks he's delusional...


_First chapter of a new fic. I'm currently writing the 4th chapter and I wasn't originally gonna upload anything until I finished it, but I wanted to test the waters. Tell me what you think (don't be scared to say I suck- but be constructive in your criticism!) please! _

_Furface xxx_

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Chapter 1- Waking up

James heard a knock on the door and rolled over, tugging his pillow over his head as his mother, Diana Potter, came in.

"James, wake up, you need to leave for school in twenty minutes."

The boy refused to move for a moment as he tried to fall back asleep and continue his dream about being a wizard (which had seemed pretty awesome).

"James, get up." Diana insisted, resorting to pulling her son's duvet off his bed. This woke him up properly, and he glared at her as put on his glasses, "If

you're not downstairs for breakfast and ready in five minutes then I will quite happily ground you." She warned him before leaving.

Mechanically, James went to his wardrobe and reached for the necessary clothes. _Pants, socks, black trousers, white shirt, jumper_, the boy listed off the items

of clothing in his head. He had a horrible feeling that he had forgotten something crucial, but he ignored it, blaming the fact that he had just woken up.

However, he couldn't just brush off his dream so easily. He couldn't remember much of it, but the bits he could remember were worryingly vivid. _Of course_,

he thought, mentally slapping himself for being so absurd, it wasn't real,_ it _was_ just a dream: there is no such place as Hogwarts, and my best friends are _

_Simon and Gabriel, not… what were their names again? Not Remus, Sirius and Peter!_

The second he had thought this, though, he knew that it wasn't true, and he began to remember more of his 'dream.' With a start, James realised that what

he had forgotten earlier: the whole of his wizarding life. He was sure now that it hadn't been a dream. Hogwarts was a real place and James Potter was a

wizard. How had he forgotten?

Then everything clicked, properly this time. Frantically, he searches his wardrobe for his robes and house tie. Unable to find them, he moved to his bedside

table, where he always left his wand. It wasn't there. Why was he at home anyway? Why wasn't he at Hogwarts if it was a school day? Who were Gabriel and

Simon and how did he know them?

James sprinted downstairs, jumping the last few steps in his rush.

"Mum, where's my wand?" He asked, heart pounding. She stared at him blankly, thinking that she had misheard him or that it was a weird prank.

"Where is my wand?" He repeated, enunciating his words clearly. Expecting James to burst out laughing, and congratulate himself on the hilarious prank, his

mother didn't say anything, and so turned back to her breakfast.

When James repeated the question seriously a third time, though, she began to worry.

"James, please tell me you're joking." She said, a hint of severity in her tone (it was early and the caffeine from her coffee hadn't hit her system yet, so she

wasn't awake enough to appreciate a joke). The boy misunderstood her completely, and thought that she was annoyed at him for misplacing the

aforementioned item yet again.

"Look, I'm sorry for losing it, I know it was stupid, but can you please tell me where it is? I don't have any clean robes or ties either."

Realising that he was serious, his mother came closer to him, trying to see if he was maybe ill.

"Darling, are you OK?" She asked, putting her hand on his cheek to check if he had a temperature.

"What do you mean?" Eyes wide, heart thudding against his ribs, the truth dawned on James. His worries were confirmed when his father, named Harry,

joined them in the kitchen and turned on a muggle kettle instead of heating the water with a flick of his wand. His father wasn't anti-muggle like the Malfoys,

but he far preferred using magic, and avoided anything muggle-made if he could.

"Morning," He mumbled, oblivious to what was going on as he put a tea bag and a sugar cube in his mug. The man turned to his family, finally noticing the

tension levels which were increasing by the second, "What's wrong?"

"James, why not you make yourself some breakfast while I speak about something privately with Dad?" His mother suggested kindly. James cast her a

scathing look, annoyed by her patronising tone, before moving towards the cupboard as his parents left the room together, closing the door behind them.

The boy opened the door to the cupboard and took out some bread. He had no idea how to use the toaster, so he just spread some butter on it and ate it. He

was halfway through his first mouthful when he realised that his parents were literally just outside the kitchen, and that he could, therefore, hear most of

their hushed conversation.

"…asked for clean robes…"

"Maybe it's just an excuse to bunk?"

"…I don't think so…sounded so serious…"

The conversation continued for a few minutes, during which James remained pressed against the door, and his buttered bread lay forgotten on the table.

Eventually, they re-entered the kitchen, and his father spoke,

"Look, James, you've had a hard week, and you're tired, but we're not going to let you miss school. You're in year 11, the year of your GCSEs, and you can't

afford to miss any classes, even if you are genuinely 'delusional.'"

"I'm not delusional! I am a wizard!" Desperately wanting to prove his point, he blurted out, "Ask Padfoot, Moony and Prongs!" There was a tense silence as his

parents digested the nicknames. James was certain that they had heard them before, but then again, he was also certain that he was a wizard, and they

didn't seem so sure about that either.

The water in the kettle began to boil, and so the kettle turned off with a click.

"Are those your new nicknames for Gabriel, Simon and Adam?" James wasn't even sure who Adam was, but since it was now clear that the Marauders didn't

exist here, and he didn't want to be sent to a mental clinic, psychologist, or any other muggle healthcare centre, he decided to play along.

Backtracking, he replied, "Yeah, sorry, urm, we were acting out a scene from a play about wizards yesterday and we got really into it. I must've dream about

it and I'm so tired that I guess I just woke up and continued the dream." His parents stared at him worriedly, but their looks eventually changed to ones of

relief.

"Go get ready for school then, I'll make you a proper breakfast and you can eat that in the car," Diana said, glancing at the slice of bread which James had

left practically untouched, "Meanwhile, Dad can write your teacher a note explaining that you overslept, because at this rate we're probably going to be late."

James slowly made his way back to his room, questions rushing through his head: What was happening? Were all wizards muggles in this world? Was he

really a wizard at all? Were any of his old friends here?

The most important question, though was would he ever get back to the wizarding world if it _did_ exist?


End file.
